


History and Heartthrobs

by haawk



Series: when they pulled me from the cold [3]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, ITS ABOUT THE YEARNING, Pining, can you tag characters if they're mentioned exactly once, idiots to lovers, the secret to falling in love is to have fun and be yourself, they really are painfully dense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:28:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29771373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haawk/pseuds/haawk
Summary: Fengari was flitting around the inn, chatting with the few patrons still awake in the wee morning hours, Inigo having collapsed in bed as soon as they rented their rooms. Rumarin was going over his research by the fireplace, keeping an eye on Fengari. She tended to ask total strangers far too many questions and he had had to stop a fight from breaking out over it more times than he cared to count.“You there!” Rumarin’s head shot up at the exclamation, praying to anyone listening he wouldn’t have to intervene. Fengari also seemed apprehensive, looking to the voice’s owner, a Dunmer sitting in the corner. “You there! Tell me, do you think I’m cute?”Gilsi is tactless, Fengari is offended on Rumarin's behalf, and Rumarin does some introspection.
Relationships: Dovahkiin | Dragonborn & Inigo the Brave, Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Rumarin
Series: when they pulled me from the cold [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2033335
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	History and Heartthrobs

They stopped in Dragon’s Bridge on the way to Markarth, staying at the inn for the night. Rumarin was just happy to have a warm and edible meal for once (Fengari was awful about “experimenting” with alchemical ingredients in their food, and Inigo was a bad enough cook he nearly managed to poison them without any actual poison).

Fengari was flitting around the inn, chatting with the few patrons still awake in the wee morning hours, Inigo having collapsed in bed as soon as they rented their rooms. Rumarin was going over his research by the fireplace, keeping an eye on Fengari. She tended to ask total strangers far too many questions and he'd had to stop a fight from breaking out over it more times than he cared to count.

“You there!” Rumarin’s head shot up at the exclamation, praying to anyone listening he wouldn’t have to intervene. Fengari also seemed apprehensive, looking to the voice’s owner, a Dunmer sitting in the corner. “You there! Tell me, do you think I’m cute?”

Fengari blinked, looking behind her to see if the elf was talking to someone else. “What?”

The Dunmer rolled her eyes. “I said, do you think I’m cute?”

Fengari looked to Rumarin for help, unsure of what to say, but Rumarin resolutely kept his head down and tried to look deeply absorbed in his work. “Um. I’m sure you have a great personality.”

Scoffing, the Dunmer said, “Obviously, but that’s not what I asked. I _know_ I’m the most beautiful and charming person you’ve ever seen, but I don’t understand why _Nelos_ can’t see that.” Fengari opened her mouth, but the elf plowed on, oblivious, “He’s always talking to that awful Eldawyn, asking her for advice when I’m standing right there. It makes no sense why he prefers that Summerset eyesore, with her awful yellow complexion—I’m his fellow Dunmer!”

“What’s wrong with a yellow complexion? I happen to think they’re nice.” Rumarin glanced up at that; he caught Fengari’s eye and she winked at him before turning to her conversation partner. Rumarin scoffed and went back to pretending he wasn’t listening. “But I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

“My name is Gilsi, and Eldawyn had better remember it next time she tries to take my Nelos from me. I just can’t wrap my head around it! I’m cuter, funnier, and by far the more talented mage. Every man who sees me notices that.” Rumarin smirked privately, wondering who exactly she'd been talking to.

“Yes, you’ve mentioned how amazing you are a few times now. But tell me more about this Nelos—is he outrageously handsome?” Fengari was teasing, not that Gilsi noticed. Rumarin gave up on listening. He had better things to do than listen to idle gossip, least of all from—ugh—a _mage_.

Rumarin lost track of time after that. The records Nords kept on their tombs was truly fascinating; for a people so concerned respecting their ancestors, they sure didn’t do much to preserve their legacy (not to mention the state of the tombs themselves). He was trying to piece together the few records Windhelm had allowed him to copy to see who was entombed in Yorgrim Overlook when Fengari plopped down next to him on the bench. She rested her head on the table, mumbling something. Rumarin reached out and patted her back, still reading.

Fengari turned her head so one eye could look up at Rumarin. “What book is that?”

“Oh, um. It’s a history of court jesters. Got to brush up on my skills for when you and Inigo get tired of me,” he joked, thinking quickly. Fengari was the last person he wanted to show his work to. Rumarin hoped she was worn out enough not to press any further. She gave him a suspicious look, but must have seen the apprehension on his face. She shrugged and closed her eyes.

“We’re not going to get tired of you. It’ll be more like you trying to escape us.”

Rumarin realized his hand was still resting on her back and removed it, hopefully more nonchalantly than it felt to him. “Oh sure, that’s what they all say before tying you up and throwing you on the back of a wagon headed to Elsweyr.”

“I hear Elsweyr is nice this time of year.” Fengari sat up more fully, still leaning her arms heavily on the table, her eyebrows furrowed. “You didn’t happen to overhear what that Dunmer was saying, did you?” Rumarin cocked an eyebrow at her. “You know, the stuff about Nelos and the Altmer.”

“Ah, yes. Something about an ‘awful yellow complexion,’ if memory serves.” He hadn’t thought much of her comments—hadn’t even been listening, really—but it was obvious Fengari was upset on his behalf. The idea of it was…a bit surprising, honestly. Most people didn’t like him enough to even have a full conversation, much less attempt to defend his honor. It mattered even more that it was Fengari doing the defending, for some reason.

Fengari nodded, lowering her voice, “Yeah, that. I wanted to apologize. She was a bit, ah—rude. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t think she was right or that I agreed with her.”

Rumarin needed to change the subject. He didn’t think he could take much more of Fen looking at him so earnestly—and his hands were already itching. “You disagree with her? So you find me very handsome?” He gave her (what he hoped was) a dashing grin. Fengari looked unimpressed, both at Rumarin’s pretend arrogance and the subject change. “Can’t say I’m surprised; I’m used to every woman I meet falling madly in love with me.”

She rolled her eyes, “I’m sure you have to fight them off with a stick.” His grin turned genuine. Fengari got up from the table, heading to her room. “Keep acting like Gilsi, and we just might send you off to Elsweyr. Don’t stay up too late reading about ‘jesters.’ Night.”

“Night,” Rumarin called after her. He watched her retreat to her room and shut the door before turning back to his book, but his mind wandered. Not that he was going to tell her anytime soon, but he really was grateful to Fengari. She had a been a good traveling companion and a fantastic friend in the months he’d known her. There was a question his mother used to ask him to pass time on the road: if you could talk to anyone, alive or dead, who would you choose? In the past, he probably would’ve said the first person to tell a joke, or whoever built the Adamantine Tower, or even Waughin Jarth (wasn’t he a fantastic historiographer?). Now? He was pretty sure he’d pick Fengari. It left a weird feeling in his gut, like he’d eaten Inigo’s cooking. Almost like he—no. No, that wouldn’t do. Fengari was, well. And he, Rumarin, was… _not_. Every moment he’d spent with her came flooding back into his mind in incredible detail: the protectiveness in battle, brushed off as ‘what friends do;’ their banter, harmless at the time, now reading _very_ flirty; the way she smiled at him, how she never smiled like that for anyone else; Inigo’s meaningful looks.

Rumarin groaned into his hands—of _course_ , Inigo had noticed something was up. And worst of all, Fengari was just as blissfully oblivious to what it looked like as Rumarin had been moments ago. He was a good actor (well, by Skyrim’s standards, anyway), but he didn’t think even he could keep pretending like everything was normal for long. He would ask Inigo about it in the morning; if he was sneaky, maybe Inigo wouldn’t notice the focus of his questioning. Doubtful. Rumarin trudged off to his room, resigned to tossing, turning, and generally overthinking his entire existence.

**Author's Note:**

> i always thought of rumarin as like, a researcher/ scholar? he can joke about being stupid all he wants but your average dumb person doesn't hang out in random nord tombs. it's probably also some insecurities; altmer are supposed to be perfect and he always feels mediocre (at best), so he doesn't mention that he's an academic because uh oh! what if people want to see your work? he also says he read a lot of spellbooks but never understood them enough to do the spells, so i imagine he's really well-versed in spell mechanics--hence the improvised ward he can learn. also rumarin has to do research because i'm writing 4 research papers this semester and i'm mad about it.
> 
> fengari's like, hyperaware about comments on appearance, probably because she has odd coloring for a bosmer (yeah i made her a mary sue. who's gonna stop me?), so she preemptively apologizes a lot. also, they get a lot of mean comments because it's two elves and a khajiit traveling together and she feels bad that they look like a mini aldmeri dominion.
> 
> he and fen have been developing feelings for each other for a while now without noticing because they're dense as bricks, but even after rumarin realizes fengari is so blissfully ignorant, which is torture for him. inigo knew from the beginning because he's 1) not an idiot, and 2) a good wingman.
> 
> comments and criticisms are always welcome, and thank you for reading!


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